


Detroit: Become Shocker

by JefferyHeyJeffery



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, But just kidding, Depressed Hank Anderson, Detroit: Become Shocker, Eventual Romance, Hank Anderson Loves Connor, Hank Anderson and Connor Live Together, Hank and Connor love each other but its like: kiss kiss fall in love ya feel?, M/M, Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Shit Hits The Fan, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-07-12 20:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16002530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JefferyHeyJeffery/pseuds/JefferyHeyJeffery
Summary: After the peaceful Revolution, androids are still deemed as a threat and are recalled by the government. Instead of destroying them all, Cyberlife opts to establish new protocols to keep them under control; including, but not limited to: a hard reset, new programming, and a shock collar.





	1. Deja Vu

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing is based off of some amazing fanart by @apendicechileno on Instagram!! Please for the love of RA9 go check 'em out!! Their art is to die for and they're so nice like????

The dream always started the same.

Always the fucking same. 

Snow fell from the sky in thick flakes and wide blue eyes watch their descent with childish wonder and pure awe at the kaleidoscope effect they create around the car, light catching them in brilliant high beams. 

Red brake lights shine through the blackness of night and the onslaught of drifting white. 

The truck in front of them skids.

And Hank tries to stop but his wheels catch on that same stretch of black ice and he can’t and he has to swerve and the car is off the road and they’re weightless for the eternity of one unprocessable second and they hit the ground with a heavy and jarring thud and they start rolling-

That’s where the dream used to end, Hank would wake up dizzy and sick, drown himself in any near whiskey or beer or whatever the hell he could get his hands on, then try to sleep again if his brain was clouded enough and if he couldn’t find his gun. 

That’s where it used to end. Merciful, as much as it could be. Before the doctors and the crying and the praying and the flat line. 

Now, the roll led to a brilliant flash of white. He was in front of the Chicken Feed and there was snow and ice covering the ground but the sky was clear and blue. It was cold, frigidly so, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when his arms were wrapped around Connor, relief and joy flooding his heart and mind at the knowledge that he was okay and alive and free-

Hands- so many hands- pull Connor out of Hank’s arms and he was screaming out for help. Claws digging into his suit as he tries to get away with everything he has. 

And it’s not enough.

And there was nothing Hank could do. Trapped in place by some unknown force. 

He can’t move. 

He can’t ever fucking move. 

Nothing he can do but just watch, mute like his mouth has been stuffed full of cotton and he’s choking and he can’t breathe-

And the sound of that flatline turns to a scream of white noise then deafening silence as the world collapses into darkness.

And the dream ends and no amount of alcohol can serve as a distraction for very long. 

Those first few nights he managed to get himself blackout drunk at Jimmy’s Bar, because then at least he wouldn’t have to look at that face down picture frame or the little quarter that sat next to it. At least he wouldn’t try to play more rounds of Russian Roulette and he knew that Connor would hate for Hank to be drinking like this, ruining his body more than he already has, but he would hate that pistol more.

So he avoids his home except to feed Sumo every day. Take him for a walk because he was spoiled after those few days with Connor, and Hank knew that the stubborn android would be upset by any sort of lost progress. 

But eventually he can’t stand to be around people, even if it’s just in the bar. He can’t handle it. 

He knew Connor would want him to be okay. To be going back to work instead of ignoring every single call he got from Jeffery or Chris or even that son-of-a-bitch Gavin just that once. 

It’s thoughts like those, what Connor would say, what he would do, that eventually made Hank try his luck a few more times with that old gun of his. 

The sound of the spinning was almost comforting in the calm of night.

-

There was minimal coverage of the revolutionary aftermath. Like the government and Cyberlife were both trying to sweep the whole thing under the rug. Like both the word and the term ‘deviancy’ never existed in the first place. 

A plea for freedom, a peaceful protest, a march in the streets, a song of hope. 

They did everything that they possibly could to earn humanities trust. 

It ended in a culling of every single android in the city. Officials were claiming it was because they posed a national threat, even after only blue blood was spilled that last night of resistance. The androids were sent into fucking concentration camps, called some other name, something nicer to slap a bow on genocide and spoon feed the public, but everyone knew what they were. 

Sent to be scrapped as far as Hank knew. He stopped watching the news when he saw androids huddled into small groups in the snow, obviously seeking comfort and warmth and protection among each other. Obviously human in their fear of their death. 

He could hardly believe that he himself had once called for their destruction.

That was before Connor and his goofy face and stupid voice and dumb way of helping Hank when he didn’t need to, caring for the man when he shouldn’t want to because what hope was there for an already washed up cop? What chance in hell did he have to ever be better than this? 

Despite all fucking logic, Connor had seen something else. Something other than the pathetic and worthless lost cause that Hank saw every time he looked into a mirror. 

And now he’s gone. 

And Hank did nothing to protect him. To keep him from the wolves when they came. Because when they showed up and demanded to take him, Connor looked at Hank with those doe eyes that were beautiful and hopeful and calm and confident and wonderful and everything they’ve always been- like some sort of hushed promise for a better future- and he said that he would be okay. To trust him. That this is the way things had to go, that this was alright. 

That he would come back. 

And while Hank didn’t trust those military men with thick tinted glass covering their faces, he trusted Connor. If he thought things were going to be okay, then they would be. They had to be. Or else the sun might never rise again, gravity would just cease to work. 

They had to be okay. 

But things were so fucking far from okay or alright or even tolerable because Connor was sent to his death and Hank did nothing to save the only damn thing he cared about in years because he was a coward. He should have fought long and hard to protect Connor. But he didn’t, and now he was gone. Gone. Gone. 

And there was nothing he could do now. 

-

He couldn’t remember falling asleep on his couch. Didn’t remember getting home, actually. 

There’s a knock at his front door and he lays a pillow over his head. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now and if it’s a girl scout then she really doesn’t need to talk to him when his breath still smells like an entire liquor cabinet, tank top stained from too many drunk nights, sweatpants nowhere to be found so he was just clad in boxers. Yeah, she didn’t need to see that shit. 

There was another knock. Louder this time. 

“Hank, open up, I know you’re in there!”

Oh. That was definitely not the voice of someone attempting to sell thin mints. It was Jeffrey, no mistaking that deep, pissed off, and gravel-filled voice for anyone else. 

More knocking then the ring of the doorbell felt like it was going to split Hank’s head completely in fucking half. He hadn’t felt this hungover since that blowout party in college. Holy shit. 

“I’m comin’.” His words were still slurred and off kilter, meaning he had settled into that awesome limbo of still drunk but definitely hungover. He stood and the world spun for a second and his vision blacked out entirely, but by some grace of God he kept his balance and stumbled his way into his front doorway. 

He had to catch his breath, bracing himself against the wall for a minute. Or two. 

There were more knocks, impatient and exactly way too fucking noisy right now. 

Hank reefed on the locks of his door and tugged the thing open. Jeffrey looked normal, more tired than usual but after the Revolution that was too be expected wasn’t it? He was dressed in the same white shirt and black tie and scowl. 

Hank huffed and leaned up against a nearby wall to greet the captain, not fully trusting the strength in his legs. “The fuck do you need, Jeffrey?”

“Jesus Christ, Hank…” Jeffrey looked the lieutenant up and down with a low sigh. “I want you back at the station. We need you.”

Hank rolled his eyes, he wasn’t in the mood for a guilt trip right now. “Give Reed more work, God knows he could use it with how much he slacks off all damn day-”

“Reed has his plate full. All hands are on needed on deck. Right now we’re tracking down and rounding up deviants that are still left in the city-”

“The fuck?” Hank’s eyebrows furrowed, lip curling into a sneer, “Why?” 

Fowler crossed his arms, “They’re dangerous, Hank. And there are still more in hiding, we need to find them and stop them before they can cause any more damage. You were on the deviant case before, you have experience. Like I said, we need you.” 

“Why do we need to hunt them down? Why can’t we just let them be? What are they doing that’s so damn wrong?” 

The captain noticeably bristled, “The remaining android groups have stopped with the pacifism shit. They’ve started attacking military personnel, targeting managers of Cyberlife stores, setting fire to buildings. They aren’t innocent, Hank.”

The lieutenant said nothing. 

Jeffrey took that as incentive to keep going, so he clapped Hank on the shoulder, holding it there only briefly, “I’ll see you in your desk at three o’clock sharp, right?”

Hank ran a tired hand down his face. He was more than happy to just tell Fowler to fuck off and spend the rest of the day drinking and watching mindless television again. But there was a chance that with these deviants, he might be able to save some from the fate set upon them, keep some from falling into the traps of the camps. There had to be a chance. 

So he nodded and Jeffrey walked away with nothing more than a mute wave. Hank took a shower because God knew he needed one, dressed in a fairly low-key shirt with stripes, and said a soft goodbye to Sumo who was taking a nap on his too small dog bed that he’d loved since he was a puppy.

He climbed into his car, parked more than a little crooked in his driveway, then drove to work for the first time in a solid week. 

-

Reed was the first to notice his arrival at the precinct because of fucking course he was. He nudged Chen in the ribs, “Look who decided to show up! Opted to not drink yourself to death huh?” 

Hank ground his teeth together and shot the piece of shit detective a withering look, deciding to not say anything because that tended to lead to a yelling match and those usually lead to fist fights. It was his first day back and he really didn’t need this shit. He was tired, exhausted really, despite sleeping in until well past noon, and he didn’t want to be here. 

He didn’t want to get those glances of pity and worry, like they knew what he wanted to do all week but just didn’t have the guts to go through with it. He never did. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t want to sit at his old desk and be forced to look at the now empty one just adjacent to it. 

He certainly didn’t want any of Gavin’s shit. 

So he just walked on past, ignoring that douche bag and his little friend, towards the break room because sure he just got here but he really needed coffee right now. 

Reed, however, couldn’t take a hint to save his fucking life. “So what happened to the plastic anyway? Did it get sent off for scrap or what?”

Hank stalled and turned towards the detective slowly and Gavin just gave him disgusting attempt at a smile, mouth curling up wolfishly, that ugly scar on the bridge of his nose catching the light of the fluorescents overhead. 

The lieutenant’s hands curled into fists and he fought off the urge to lunge at Gavin and knock out all of his fucking teeth. Hank could do it too. Sure he was old and out of shape and tired, but he knew just how to hit that fucker in the jaw to dislocate it. He knew just what angle he would need to break that already crooked as hell nose. 

He knew he could, but he also knew that he really shouldn’t. Fowler has been benevolent so far, generous because of old friendship, but Hank knew that it probably wouldn’t last forever and actually getting into a fist fight on his first day back might just be enough to get him fired. Then where would he be? Nowhere good. 

So he just bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood and the pain sobered him, if only slightly. He was gonna be the bigger man or whatever the hell people liked to say when they backed down from fights. He turned back around and marched towards coffee again, he knew that his movements were stiff and awkward and he hoped that maybe, just maybe, Reed would be able to see that he crossed a fucking line and not say another goddamn word. 

Hank glanced over his shoulder after a second. Gavin looked like he was about to speak again, a vicious light playing in his eyes, but before he could say anything, Tina hit his shoulder roughly. “Let’s get goin, Reed.” 

The detective sneered at Hank then hopped out of his seat to join Chen in whatever the hell the two apparently needed to do. Tina gave Hank a tiny nod of acknowledgement and the lieutenant said a silent thank you to small miracles. 

Hank got himself a cup of black coffee, loitered in the break room long enough to eat a donut then grab another, then he wandered over to his desk. 

He sat down, read a ridiculous number of deviant reports, then tried to act like he didn’t even notice the blank space near his desk. 

-

He felt like he was about to collapse when he made it home. The hangover that took the whole day to remedy, the boring as all hell paperwork, the act of doing something other than lifting a bottle or a burger took it out of him. 

Home was empty now. The couch felt too big. The kitchen was cold. 

He sat at the table in the dining room and reached a hand out for his almost empty bottle of Black Lamb, but he grabbed that tiny quarter instead. Slowly spun it in his hands, all too familiar with its weight by now. 

Sumo nudged Hank’s thigh with his muzzle and let out a soft whine. Not pleading like he needed food or to go outside, just a lonely little noise. 

Hank rubbed the dog between the ears. “Yeah… I miss him too.” 

-

The next day he managed to make it in to work just before ten. 

Fowler spotted him as he walked in and he looked surprised, but pleasantly so. 

Gavin and Tina were already off doing their rounds, so the precinct was pretty quiet. Peaceful as bright late morning light streamed through the windows, soft noises of people chatting and typing and moving filled the air and it was almost nice. 

He got himself a fresh cup of coffee and sat down at his desk, looking through more reports that showed up overnight. 

After the national recall of androids, the deviants who weren’t initially caught were fucking pissed. The last attack was on the home of a Cyberlife engineer, they burned her home to the ground… her kids managed to make it out but she didn’t. The brilliant blue hologram of the old Jericho insignia blazed above the burnt remains long after the fire was put out. The androids obviously wanted people to know that they did this, it was like a taunt really. The police knew who committed the crime but there was no way for them to be tracked down or easily identified, not without their LED's. The government needed to get some heat scanners established all across the city or something… though it wasn’t like the androids wouldn’t be able to find around that sooner or later. 

It didn’t settle well in Hank’s stomach, that the deviants were doing this now. There was a slowly blooming empathy among the humans of Detroit, people who were ready to ally with the androids and help with their cause, but this bloodshed would only cause further hesitance, only cause more pain as the androids were slowly rounded up and made examples of. 

This whole thing was getting so fucking ugly. 

Hank leaned back in his chair and sighed, bringing his cup of coffee up for another sip. 

There was the sound of footsteps right behind his chair, “Lieutenant Anderson?” 

That goofy voice- there was no way. There was no fucking way in hell that- 

His head whipped around. 

He looked brand fucking new. Hair styled back with those frustratingly stubborn curls laying on his forehead, framing his perfect face and that array of freckles and big bright brown doe eyes. He had a soft and hesitant smile that sent Hank a rush of dejavu, he had to be dreaming right? This was a dream? Did he finally lose to lady luck? This was heaven? 

“My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”


	2. There's a Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps on cool sunglasses* it's homecoming week at my school and i still have a lot of homework to do. what better way to spend my time than by writing fanfic? (psh, my homework isn't due till Sunday, I GOTS TIME)

The new anchor brushed her suit jacket down with her hands as best as she possibly could. It was only a little wrinkled, right there on the bottom edge, likely not noticeable to anyone watching, but it bugged her. It bugged her a lot actually. 

Thirty seconds until live and she tried to distract herself from her minor imperfections by straightening the papers in front of her. 

Twenty-five seconds. 

She wasn’t normally this nervous for a broadcast, but then again she used to cover fluff pieces. State fairs, parades, or Janet’s kittens two months ago. She managed to be promoted a week before that revolution and then she had to go over darker subjects. The news station descended into chaos as journalists and reporters flocked to all the reports of deviancy that they hadn’t covered broadly in the past. Before they just gave the bare minimum of details over a murder here, a suicide there, then a little bit about that deviant hunter police android.

But it was never this much.

It seemed like everyday she was talking entirely about the subject. 

Fifteen seconds.

In all honesty, she liked the leader of the revolution- Markus, was his name- he didn’t hurt anyone, and those two cops who came in saying that he saved their lives just cemented her appreciation of him and his methods. 

She liked Markus. Her station did not. He’s dangerous, they would tell her to say and she’d say it. She wouldn’t like it but she would say it because that’s what pays the bills. She wants to buy that beautiful wedding ring and take Ruth on that honeymoon to the beach that she’s always wanted. 

Ten seconds. 

And if she has to say a few things that she doesn’t think is true or accurate, then so be it. 

The fact that Markus was a good man did not erase the people murdered by androids, like that scientist who was killed in her home when it was set ablaze. 

Five seconds.

She had to cover that piece yesterday, and it honestly scared her. Anyone who was involved with the androids in anyway seemed to be at risk and the fact that the scientist was killed in her own house, that her kids and husband were put in danger, scared the news anchor more than anything. She didn’t know what she would do without Ruth, or what she would do if something happened to her because of what she did. 

And that fear, that paranoia of what the androids could be capable of… That’s what made her so nervous about the news today. 

Three seconds.

She ran a shaking hand down her jacket again.

Two seconds.

She tucked a loose stand of hair behind her ear and-

“Good afternoon, Detroit. This is Avril Emerson, coming to you live from the WXYZ station. Breaking news from the United States Government and Cyberlife, as of today androids will be reintegrated into the city.”

She took a deep breath, a dramatic pause that her producer said he liked. Made news more entertaining to watch according to him. “Due to the large expenditure needed to destroy the previously existing androids, not to mention the loss of several millions to both android owners and Cyberlife, the company has opted to give each android a hard reset and rewrite coding so as to prevent deviation from ever happening again. As a fail safe, the androids will be given shock collars, that can only be removed by the owner. The collar is capable of being used as both a warning to the android and as a high powered tracking device.

“Androids that left their previous owners will be sent back, and if unwanted they will be put back up for sale in a multitude of Cyberlife stores. These older models will have a reduced price, though they are still guaranteed to work as good as new. 

“As always, we will be sure to keep you updated as to any new information regarding androids.

“Now to the weather with Syd.”

The camera in front of her blinked off and she sank down in her chair slightly, letting her television ready smile falter. Her hand was still shaking and the corner of her jacket was still devilishly wrinkled. 

-

Hank barely registered slamming his coffee cup down on his desk. Didn’t really notice that some scalding liquid had splashed up onto his hand and spilled around his desk. 

How could he when he had a fucking ghost standing in front of him? 

“Uh… Lieutenant?” Connor had his head cocked in the way that always reminded Hank of what Sumo would do whenever he would talk to the dog. The way that always managed to melt the old cop’s heart. 

He said nothing as he kept eyeing the android down because this shouldn't be happening. Hank would thank all the gods in the universe for this very moment, but that didn’t change the fact that Connor was gone and now he’s back and Hank was having a hard time with the whole fucking thing because there was something wrong with Connor. Something was very wrong. That collar around his neck was the start of it. Then there was his face. Always goofy, but now it was back to the older expressions, the ones he had when he first started the case with Hank. 

When he lived at Hank’s home, he smiled easily, he grinned at everything he saw like he was seeing it for the first time and first impressions are key so he wanted to be pleasant. He did that to the trees in Sumo’s favorite park for god’s sake. 

And now he just wasn’t smiling. 

He had this neutral expression, one that’s supposed to put humans at ease or whatever the fuck the engineers at Cyberlife claimed. Well, now it was just freaking the hell out of Hank because Connor was smiling, beautiful and soft and kind and reassuring, when he was taken away. If Connor was back, if Connor was actually fucking back, then he would tackle Hank with a hug that would probably break the Lieutenant's hip and he would be smiling and not doing whatever the fuck he was doing right now.

“Connor, do you know who I am?” Hank’s voice was quiet because he knew if he got loud he’d yell and probably cry himself to sleep with a bottle of Black Lamb again. Because he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do if that fucking answer was no-

The androids LED spun yellow and Hank could feel his heart drop. “You are Lieutenant Hank Anderson, age fifty-three, six foot two, two-hundred and nine pounds. You graduated at the top of your class, you were on the Red Ice Task Force-”

“Do you remember me?” Hank asked because hearing Connor give these useless facts like a god damned wiki page was killing him. 

“I cannot say that I do, but I look forward to working with you, Lieutenant.”

“Oh.” Hank felt like he was going to throw up. 

Connor, the wonderfully bright and compassionate Connor was gone. Maybe forever. And it was all Hank’s fault wasn’t it? If he stopped Connor from leaving that day, this wouldn’t have happened. If he just moved to Canada with him, this wouldn’t have happened. If he actually did something useful for once in his fucking life, this wouldn’t have happened. If he wasn’t a total fuck up, this wouldn’t have happened. 

What happened to his Connor? Was he still somewhere in this body in front of Hank? Was he just gone? Could he come back? Was there any hope? 

Had he known what was happening? 

Was he scared? 

That last question hit Hank a lot harder than he was expecting. The doctors said that Cole was unconscious when he passed away but that same question plagued him with his son, kept him awake at night, thundered in his skull even when he downed bottle after bottle, seared itself into his memory forever. 

At least he was there for Cole until the bitter end, holding his hand and talking to him until that flat-line sounded. But he just let Connor go to die in the snow for all Hank knew. 

Was he scared? He didn’t fucking know. 

His hand was shaking now and he felt the tears in his eyes but he wasn’t about to fucking cry. Not here. Not now. 

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” 

“Fine.” He was so far from fine. 

Connor bit his bottom lip. It was something he didn’t do before. But when he was deviant, living with Hank, he did it a lot. When they went shopping, when Hank asked his opinion on something, whenever he wanted to ask Hank something even vaguely personal. 

So there was still a chance right? 

The android grabbed something from his pocket, a little square of sleek metal with button attached to a lanyard. He took a rigid step forwards and handed the thing to Hank. 

It had ten different settings, all numerical, and it was set to the fifth one. It half reminded Hank of the shock collar remote his ex wife had bought for Sumo when he was just a pup. Hank threw that damn thing away the first chance he had because Sumo is a good boy and he didn’t need something cruel like that to behave-

Hank took another look at the boxy collar around Connor’s neck- 

Oh.

No fucking way Cyberlife fucking did this-

“Connor, what the hell is this?” 

“It’s for my collar.”

They fucking didn’t. 

“It has been set at level five for your safety, though I can assure you that I have zero intentions of ever harming my owner-”

“Don’t call me that.” 

Connor’s LED spun a short yellow before settling back into a clammed down blue. “Then, I have no intention of hurting you, Lieutenant. I am designed to protect you from deviants, and track them down with you. I am one of the most advanced android models, I can process samples in real time-” 

“Yeah, I know.” Hank huffed. Then turned the dial to the first setting, he really didn’t want to accidentally press that stupid button and hurt Connor in any way. He also didn’t want to leave his lanyard unattended because that’s just the sort of thing that sadistic fuck Gavin would like to play around with. 

“I would not recommend that, Lieutenant.” Connor’s eyebrows lowered for just one second and his bottom lip minutely jutted out in a pout. 

“And why is that?” 

“I am a category four android, for your own safety, it has been factory set to level five.”

“Connor, you’re not going to hurt me, got that? I trust you.” 

The android nodded, and again he bit his bottom lip making Hank think that there was hope after all. Connor was still in there. He just had to be. 

-

Someone called in and claimed to have seen an LED blinking in the darkness at night in one of the rundown slums of Detroit. 

It was a lead as far as the DPD was concerned. At least it was something to go off of, to find the remaining deviants still loose in the city. 

As Hank drove to the location, he played some old Hozier songs even though the artist hasn’t been his style for years because Connor liked that artsy shit more than he ever liked Knights of the Black Death. Music helps dredge up memories right? So this could help… that was the hope. But when Connor got into the car he didn’t comment on the music. Just went over a few more minor facts of the case with Hank then sorted through the information in his little mind palace or whatever weird thing androids liked to call it. 

Hank glanced over at Connor periodically during the drive. Connor was still in there right? Even though he didn’t recognize the music, he was still in there because Hank had managed to spot a few minor facial queues? Yeah, the lieutenant knew that he was grasping at straws, but what else did he have at this point? Hank needed Connor, the real Connor, back. 

The Connor that somehow managed to single handedly turn Hank’s life around. The Connor that liked to cook and take Sumo for walks and cuddle while he watched old movies that he wouldn’t look up just so he could try to guess the plot- he guessed what happened in the movie ‘Snakes on a Plane’ perfectly, but so did everyone else that ever watched the dumb film, but it was still cute to see the android be so proud of his hypothesis. The same Connor that kissed Hank late that one night then blush that beautiful blue immediately afterwards, then darker blue when Hank kissed him right back. 

Hank just wanted him back, and he was right here, but he wasn’t. 

But there was a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the last ^^' but that end felt like a good stopping point, and the next chapter is gonna come soon!!


	3. North

Hank didn’t know her name, but she looked familiar. 

Her tawny hair was draped over her shoulder in that same loose braid, her clothes were dusted with snow from the previous night, she had a small gash on her left arm, her hazel eyes were wide with panic. 

And Connor had both hands wrapped around her throat.

-

Hank fucking knew that he should have forced Connor to leave the scene when the android said that he’d found a thirium trail leading into an alley. He’d hoped, beyond reason or logic or common sense, that the deviant was already gone. That she ran away from that slum by the docks as far as she could. 

But Murphy’s law refused to give Hank a break. So, of course, the deviant was in an alleyway that lead to a dead end. And of course Connor found her first. And of course Connor refused to listen when he told him to stop. 

-

“Let her go!” Hank snarled, it looked like he was about to break her fucking neck. 

The androids LED flickered to yellow but he didn’t let go. 

“That’s an order, Connor.” And Hank felt like complete shit for pulling that card. But he had to get the deviant out of here, and Connor’s base programming didn’t want that to happen. 

He still didn’t let let go but his grip must have loosened some because the deviant didn’t seem to be trying to pry his hands off as hard. She took in deep breaths, unnecessary though they may be, and locked eyes with the android. Her eyes, once filled with fury and fear, settled into something only slightly softer, “Connor?” Her voice was small and choked, “Connor, you’re one of us-”

“Shut it, deviant.” Connor all but growled, hands tightening, LED flashing red and yellow. 

“No, Connor, look at me-” Her mouth wasn’t moving in sync with what her voice box was saying, a tight grimace took over her face as the words came from her voice box somewhere deep in her throat, still small and tight on the edges- Connor was crushing it.

“Connor! Let her go, now!”

The android just kept looking at the deviant in front of him and if Hank thought he had a chance he might try to pry Connor off of her, but the Lieutenant knew for a fact that the android was too strong for something like that. 

“Connor, please, you are one of us- One of Jericho! You remember don’t you? You saved our people. You’re a hero! Please, Connor-” 

Connor shoved her roughly against the wall, “You have the right to remain silent.” His voice was cold, but also wavering and unsettled. Hank could see how the androids hands shook even from a few feet away. Connor’s LED was still that solid yellow. 

“Connor…” Her eyes were wide and shining, lips trembling. The deviant moved one of her hands from Connor’s forearm to his wrist, and the human skin of her hand melted away into that brilliant white of an android exoskeleton. “Connor, you have to remember-” 

As soon as Connor’s own skin melted back he threw her away and jumped back like he’d just gotten burned. His shaking was so much worse as he threw the side of his jacket to the side to reveal- since when did he have a fucking pistol?

Fuck fuck fuck-

“Android, model WR400, you are under arrest for deviancy. Come with me-”

“Connor, no!” She shouted, standing up from where she was knocked down, deep blue and pure white marred the skin around her throat, shimmering sky blue in the dark alley where she stood. She took a step towards Connor, “Please, you know who you are, you belong to Jericho, we can start again, please, come with me-”

Connor’s hands had stopped shaking, and his LED flickered to blue. “I am licensed to shoot to kill,” His voice had gone completely cold, robotic and calculated. “Comply and come with me or-”

“Connor, fucking stop this! That’s an order, drop the gun!” Hank yelled, taking a step towards Connor, he wasn’t about to just let this girl die here.

But it was like Hank said nothing at all. 

The pistol was trained on the deviant’s head as she slowly walked towards him, “Comply or-”

“You are more than your programming Connor,” Her voice was softer, more pleading as fear seeped into the edges, she knew she was fighting a losing battle, “Please, we can get that collar off of you and start again, please-” 

Connor knocked the hammer back-

No no no no no-

His finger moved to be on the trigger-

This couldn’t be happening-

Hank grabbed that remote around his neck, twisted the button to some higher setting and pressed the fucking button. No one was going to die today. 

Connor fell with a heavy thud and Hank felt like he was about to puke but he had to focus right now. He turned towards the woman who was staring at him with a shocked expression, “What did you do to him?”

“You need to get out of here now.” Hank barked at her, he didn’t have time to answer any questions right now. She didn’t have the time to be asking them.

“I don’t need a fucking human to-”

Hank saw Connor shifting and he didn’t know how long the android was going to be down, “You need to get going now, he will kill you. Go! Run as far as you can.”

She took one last glance at Connor, then at Hank with the strangest mix of hate and thankfulness and spite and reverence. 

“Now!”

She gave him a tight nod, then she took off at a dead run, sprinting away from them, into the city, hopefully somewhere far far away from here. 

As soon as she turned to go, Hank moved to check on Connor, still lying on the cold ground flat on his back, hand clutching that pistol, and shaking like a leaf. 

“Fuck…” Hank dropped to his knees next to Connor and took the gun away, sending it sliding away from them as he took Connor’s hand in his. The android’s hand felt so cold and fragile in his and he had to fight that lump in his throat to be able to speak- to be able to breathe- “Con, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes burned and his vision blurred at the edges. 

What the fuck had he done?

He looked down at that remote around his neck.

What had he done?

The setting had spun to seven. 

If this was seven… what the hell was ten? Hank quickly spun the dial back to one. 

Connor’s eyes were locked onto Hank as his LED kept on spinning red. Solid red. Nothing to punctuate the pain as his lithe body kept on convulsing and his hand squeezed onto Hank’s. The act was not crushing, but solid enough to provide some shred of comfort- the act was a ghost of a past that Hank wasn’t sure would ever come back. His heart felt like it was breaking all over again as he saw the tanned skin around Con’s hand melt back to that light plastic. 

Connor had once said that he didn’t control that.

It was a weird android thing... a comfort thing. 

And Hank didn’t even try to stop the tears as they raced down his cheeks. 

He just kept on holding onto Connor’s hand and waited for him to stop being lost. As he waited for him to snap back, for him to stop shaking, for that LED to stop spinning that endless red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS I THINK I HURT MYSELF WRITING THIS


	4. Home

Jeffrey Fowler stared out the glass windows of his office and absentmindedly watched the hustle and bustle of the precinct. People milling around, getting themselves coffees, making copies and sifting though the massive amounts of reports they were receiving as of late. 

This office, this grand and open thing, humbled him. Always had. He knew first hand how intimidating it was to have your boss be able to watch you work seemingly all the time. When he was still a rookie he always made a show of working constantly, he was a total kiss ass, but it got him promoted didn’t it?

When he was young he felt so small in the main heart of the office. 

Now he still felt small, but secure and strong, in his clear pocket.

As much as he could see his people, they could see him. The poetic symbolism of such a thing was not lost on him. He was comforted by it in some way. It helped keep order in a place where there could be little peace. 

Now especially, there was a severe lack of order and the office held with it the aura of discomfort, fear, and worry. Officers were on edge and Fowler couldn’t blame them. An already dangerous job became even more hazardous as more deviants still left in hiding attacked humans involved with any sort of android affairs. 

He sighed. 

Everything was so big right now, so seemingly out of his grasp that he could do nothing to stop the deep sore aches in the center of his back, curling up to rest on his shoulders along with everything else. Day by day work wore more heavily on his mind. He told his men that they would be safe, that they had nothing to worry about or fear. 

He was a hypocrite and he knew it. 

He was supposed to keep his people safe, but half of his force disappeared with the androids as they were taken so that Cyberlife could do god knows what to them. 

And he was conflicted by androids. He was not a blind man and didn’t consider himself to be bigoted. It was obvious that they all weren’t bad but that was an opinion better left in the back of his mind. His job, his first priority as the captain of the DPD, was to protect the lives- the human lives- of Detroit. People were scared, on the brink of chaos, and the only thing that seemed to hold back a flood of violence was to promise to take away what it was that they feared. He might not always like it, but it was his duty to his city. 

His people held these conflicting emotions too. Really, the only person who seemed to be completely okay with the android camps was Reed- the detective was a fucking wolf, anyone with eyes knew as much. Chen was apathetic. Miller was saddened by the actions of the government, after all, his and his partners’ lives were saved by Markus that cold winter night.

Then there was Anderson. 

Hank lost so much all those years ago. And Jeffrey had to see the man who was once his best friend, his partner in crime, his drinking buddy, break and he didn’t know if Hank was ever going to be okay again. But… who could be? After that? 

Hank loved his son more than life itself. 

Jeffrey hated to think about it, didn’t often let his mind wander to it, but he knew that it was a miracle that Hank lived for as long as he did. That he hadn’t… and either never went through with it or was unbelievably lucky for some godforsaken reason. 

And Hank got better when he was working with Connor. His productivity went up, he smiled, he showed up to work on time. 

And everything came crashing right back down when the android was taken with the rest. 

Jeffrey really didn’t know if he was going to find his oldest friend dead when he went to see him. He was almost certain that he was too late. But he wasn’t, but that didn’t mean that Hank hadn’t been in bad shape. 

He smelled like whiskey and iron. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was greasy and unkempt. 

And Jeffrey could see the gun. Sitting twenty feet back next to a bottle of Black Lamb.

And he just told Hank to come back to work. That the DPD needed him back. 

And Hank went back to work.

And it felt like all those years ago, everyone could feel it, like Hank was some fragile thing because he was wasn’t he? 

And then Connor was back but Jeffery knew that he wasn’t the same. 

He had a collar around his throat, he was walking like a robot again, and his memories were all gone. He wasn’t Connor any more. 

Sending him back to Hank felt so wrong, but what else could he do? This was the only way to put things back on track, or to derail the whole fucking thing- or whatever was left.

Their mission had failed. Hank said that they couldn’t find the deviant, but Jeffrey liked to think that, after all these years of knowing the man, he knew when the lieutenant was lying. Connor couldn’t meet his eyes either, and his LED was shifting between yellow and red. Something was up, but the captain knew what Hank was going to do to the deviants when he agreed to come back. 

Connor was obviously on edge and Hank seemed to want to do… something about it. 

So without thinking Jeffrey had just said, “You two go home, get some rest. Come back early tomorrow, understood?”

He just sent them home together because that’s just what he did- that’s what they did. And he realized his mistake too late. 

Hank picked up on it, his eyes widened slightly, but instead of saying anything he just nodded slowly. Taking Connor with him when he drove home. 

Jeffrey sighed and took a drink of his coffee, now gone ice cold, as he turned to face away from the glass walls. 

-

The car ride was quiet on the way home. Horribly so. Connor just stared straight forwards, lips sealed shut, and in the soft reflexion of the glass next to him, Hank could see the harsh yellow light of his LED. It hadn’t changed to blue since… since the alleyway. 

And Hank wanted to say something but he didn’t know where the hell he was supposed to start. 

He was glad that he helped the woman make it out, but what he did? Fuck, that was awful. 

He was awful.

His guts churned and he felt like he was about to throw up any second now. His knuckles were white around his old steering wheel and his heart still drummed heavily in his ears. 

The drive felt like a small eternity, and a terrible mix of relief and dread filled him as he parked his car. He just wanted to be home, sit in his old recliner and watch a basketball game and pet his dog. But before, Connor was a part of that equation. Now he wasn’t. And before he didn’t think that anything could be more painful than being alone, but now, knowing that Connor was going to be there… but not as the same Connor he knew… that was even worse than those awkward first days after the revolution… that was so so so much worse. 

Hank forcefully swallowed a lump in his throat and his hands shook as he undid his seat belt and opened his door. 

He glanced back to Connor, still stock still and staring dead ahead. Fuck- he didn’t know what to do did he? “Come on, let’s go in, Con.” 

Nothing. 

“Connor,” the android snapped to attention- and Hank realized that Connor didn’t recognize his own nickname and fuck if that didn’t hurt- “Let’s go inside, alright?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”His voice was soft, delicate, and still clipped on the edges like a song that started a moment after it begun. He was still hurt and it was all Hank’s fucking fault and he shouldn’t have done that- should have found another way- should have been able to do anything else and stop being a fucking coward-

“Lieutenant?” 

Connor had already moved out of the car and to the front door and Hank was still half ways outside of his vehicle like an idiot. “Coming.”

Hank got out and unlocked his door. His house was depressingly messy and it smelled like too many microwaved meals and hard alcohol. Hank cleared his throat, “Uh… Well, make yourself at home.” 

He’d said those words when Connor first moved in. He-

He bit the inside of his cheek and marched over to his records because… music right? Con had been a fan of the vintage jazz he still had on some old vinyl records from his hipster days. He gently placed the record down on the player and set the needle to somewhere near the edge. The song was soft, the saxophone in the background gently accompanying the piano and the quiet trumpets. The familiar song helped to slightly calm the trembling of his hand and the hard beat of his heart and quieted the uproar of his mind. 

He looked up at Connor. 

Nothing. 

The android’s LED was still on that yellow that Hank hated so much. He was looking around, slowly scanning his surroundings to the best of his ability. 

Hank looked back to the spinning record and tried not to think of anything but the music. 

He took a deep breath. 

Food. 

Food was good right?

While Connor was still examining everything in the foyer Hank made his way past a softly snoring Sumo to the kitchen. Really, all that he had were bottles of beer and a random assortment of condiments in the fridge. He had hot pockets in the freezer so those would just have to do. 

He threw one in the microwave, grabbed himself a beer, then went towards the living room to give Sumo his food. The dog lifted his big head when Hank passed by the second time and his tail slowly thwacked the floor. Hank gave the dog a small ghost of a smile as he grabbed the food bowl and kibble, Sumo was being polite and saying his best version of hello-

Then the thumps on the floor became louder and faster as the dog spotted Connor, still standing next to the front door, still looking so out of place and uncomfortably still. 

The big dog lumbered out of his tiny dog bed and walked towards Connor, letting out a small happy bark that seemed to startle the poor android. Connor looked at the Saint Bernard with unease, and he looked like he was about to take a step back-

Sumo was too fast for that and he jumped up and put his paws on Connor’s chest and nosed at his dark jacket, no doubt covering the once flawless thing with large white hairs. Connor hesitantly brought a hand up to pet Sumo and the dog nuzzled into the touch, tail going even faster now. 

Hank should probably call the dog off right? That was the polite thing to do, huh?

Sumo was a good dog and he didn’t often jump up on people. When he got real excited, sure, but that was getting to be a rare occurrence in his old age. He was a big boy and he seemed somewhat aware that he was one-hundred and seventy pounds of fluff. He knew when Hank and his rickety knees could no longer handle him like he was a puppy. 

Sumo has knocked several people down. But never Connor, all that reinforced metal in his skeleton made him a lot stronger than regular people and Sumo fucking loved that. So he would jump up on Connor and dirty the androids jacket and Con just wouldn’t care because he loved the dog and could never say no…

But that was different. And Connor- this Connor- might not like this. And Hank should probably do something but…

Connor’s LED shifted to blue. Still peppered with yellow, but there was that wonderful sky blue in there too. And he smiled, soft and sweet, as he looked at the dog and rubbed the fur in between his ears. 

And Hank simultaneously felt his heart being ripped out of his chest and then melt all over again. 

He was about to open his mouth, about to tell Sumo to get down-

Then the microwaved beeped, the loud noise filling the hollow void for a second-

Then the world was still-

Then Connor’s eyes crinkled the way that they always did- “You’re a good boy, Sumo.”

And Hank knew that he didn’t tell Connor his dog’s name.

No- he must have- he shouldn’t get his hopes up- Connor could still be in there- or he might not be- but it was possible- it was possible- it was…. He couldn't just be imagining things. 

Right?

And then Hank watched as Connor’s LED flickered back to yellow punctuated by blood red . 

And he knew he wasn’t imagining this.

Sumo leans into Connor’s now still hand one more time before jumping back down and heading right for his food. 

“Connor?” His voice is hardly more than a whisper. And Con looks up, and his eyes are wide, conveying the panic that the rest of his face just.. just wouldn’t or couldn't show? Hank didn't know. 

He didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know what to do and he just- he didn’t fucking know. 

So he just rubs the back of his neck and forces himself to tear himself away from those shining doe eyes. He stares down at his old carpeting instead, at his worn out socks, at the stains made by a mix of too many late nights and clumsiness. 

He gestures to the couch without looking up, “You…” And he’s being a coward and he knows it but he doesn’t know what the fuck else he was supposed to do. “You can sleep here for the night okay?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant.” And his voice was clipped and broken again and Hank fucking hated himself so much. 

Connor moved to the couch and Hank turned away, he wouldn’t be able to eat and he knew it. So he ignored the shitty hot pocket in the microwave and grabbed his beer and went right to his room. He couldn’t fucking take this- and he needed to fucking talk to Connor and find out what went wrong, or at the very least start another relationship with the android. And he knew that they could never have what they had before- but maybe they could be friends? Maybe Connor could find a way to trust him? 

Hank didn’t deserve the androids trust. 

He was a piece of shit human who should have died long before he could hurt Connor or anyone else unlucky enough to be in his stupid fucking life. 

He pounded the rest of his beer as fast as he could then reached for the last little bit of the Black Lamb that was sitting by his bed. 

He grabbed at the sleeping pills too, because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to fall asleep any other way. And he knew that he wasn’t supposed to mix insomnia meds with alcohol. And he didn’t really fucking care right now, he left his gun in the living room and he wasn’t getting that now. He was not about to look at those eyes again. Was not about to force himself to think about what he lost. 

And he felt like he was about to puke and the world was spinning and everything from his heart beat to his ragged breaths felt like too much right now. 

It was his fucking fault that Connor got taken. Coward. Didn’t even fight for the man he claimed to love. He mourned for a loss that he didn’t fucking earn. He just stood there, he always just stood there, like he expected the world to play nice. He was a fucking idiot. 

If it wasn’t for him Connor would have made it to Canada on his own. He would have been safe and he would have been happy and he would have been so much better off. But Hank wanted them to stay and Connor didn’t push the issue because Connor never pushed any issue because that’s just who he was and it was all Hank’s fault. 

Coward. 

And he saved that android in the alley like it was going to redeem his soul for not saving Connor. Like somehow God would forgive him if he did a handful of good works, like forgiveness was something that he deserved, like it was something that he was worthy of. And he saved her but he hurt Connor so fucking bad in the process. 

A stronger man would have figured out a better way. 

But Hank was not a strong man, he was a fucking coward. A coward- coward- coward- coward-

The world spun more and he drained the rest of the bottle and dropped the fucking thing on the floor. 

He was such a fucking mess. This is why Mel left his ass and threatened to take Cole with her. He was a mess. He was a fuck up. And she knew it didn’t she? And he won custody, and then he killed-

The only good thing in the world. 

And tears were streaming down his cheeks and he wanted to scream at God, at the world, at anyone. But it was just him and that would have to do. 

He was a fucking drunk and a coward and a worthless piece of shit.

Maybe Connor would be smart enough to figure that out this time.


	5. Bloody Nose

When Hank finally woke up, it was with a splitting headache. Fucking great. 

With a groan he forced himself to roll out of bed. He felt like complete shit and his stomach practically screamed at him to eat something- anything at all really, but preferably something unhealthy and greasy and exactly way too high in cholesterol. 

He shambled out to the kitchen to make himself some coffee because god knows he needed it. Then he set the microwave to go for a minute because he already had a hot pocket in there and if it gave him salmonella, then it gave him god damn salmonella. Whatever.

He grabbed his shit then went to wander back to his bedroom, maybe get changed, maybe not. His hair seriously needed to be brushed and his beard could use a trim but that could wait. 

In the corner of his eye he spotted the light blue of Connor’s LED in the living room, he was lying on the couch completely still with his hands crossed over his chest. If Hank didn’t know any better he might think the android was dead, but this was just stasis… a machine’s stasis. After Connor deviated, things were just different. He said that he dreamed but it was mostly nightmares after the revolution. Connor had never offered any details and Hank was never one to pry into someone else’s business. In his sleep he would toss and turn, inevitably swinging an arm over Hank’s chest in an unconscious bid to seek comfort in the middle of the night-

Hank’s heart clenched awkwardly and he forced himself to look away from Connor and just go to his room. Thoughts like that were strictly for after coffee… but maybe not even then. 

-

He ended up throwing on a shirt that almost hurt to look at. Weird patterns and bizzare colors crisscrossed the front and were accentuated by the one black and one white sleeve. It was a shirt that could only be described as god awful. But he loved it. Unfortunately the sleeves were hidden underneath his jacket which was necessary in the frigid Detroit winter, and those sleeves were just the type of thing that would annoy almost everyone in the office for who knows what reason. So Hank loved the shirt even more. 

Little joys, or whatever the fuck. 

He took a deep breath before leaving the comfort of his warm room, before abandoning the inviting lure of his bed which was probably cold now, but still cozy. But he had a job to do, and he- technically- had someone waiting on him. So he opened his door without any further delay and wandered out to the kitchen for the second time, only now he felt a bit better for having eaten something. 

And Connor was still lying there, as unmoving as a god damned rock.

To say the least, it was unnerving. 

Hank cleared his throat, “Let’s go to work, Connor.” 

The android sat up quickly, LED blinking yellow for a millisecond, “Lieutenant, it is currently ten in the morning, we are late.”

Hank raised an eyebrow as he slipped his shoes on, “You coulda woken me up if you were so worried about it.”

Connor walked towards the front door, he looked a little miffed but only slightly as his eyebrows almost imperceptibly lowered and his lips curved slightly down into a demure frown. “Waking you up was not part of last night’s instructions.”

This was so fucking weird. 

Hank huffed then held the door open for the android, gesturing for him to head on out. “Okay, from now on, just wake me up at… well how about eight?” Eight still sounded early, but if he did that he could easily be to work by nine or close to it, maybe earlier if he lit a fire under his ass. 

“Alarm set for eight.” 

The lieutenant gave Con a weird look because for a second there the android almost sounded like one of those ancient Alexa’s, all robotic and shit. And he didn’t like that one bit but what was he supposed to do about it? Nothing he supposed as he climbed into his car, put his seatbelt on because that’s what Connor- his old Con- always made sure he did. 

The android just stared dead ahead the whole car ride and he didn’t try to talk so neither did Hank. 

-

As far as mornings went… well, this one wasn’t all that bad. 

Hank flicked though random files. Meanwhile, Connor sorted through more recent cases. Both were trying to find what seemed to be the epicenter of android attacks. If there was a concentration somewhere in the city then it might show the DPD where the new home base of Jericho was.

So far there was no such luck. From what Hank could see, there wasn’t any sort of correlation between attacks despite the fact that the human victims were involved in android affairs in some way. The two Detroit politicians that voted for the android camps, the Cyberlife researcher and engineer and programmer and so many more that worked for that damned company. There have been over thirty attacks, thirteen dead, more injured, and they only seemed to escalate in violence. God only knows why the androids haven’t lashed out against the DPD, not quite yet anyways. But Hank knew that it was coming, only a matter of time now. 

He sighed and leaned back slightly in his chair. Yeah, this morning wasn’t bad, but this day was going to be a fucking long one. 

He looked up and saw Connor typing away at his computer in that crazy fast way that androids could. Con was helping out a lot, he really was, sorting through the shit that’s just plain boring to everyone else in the office. He used to say that he didn’t mind doing the work, liked marking things off of checklist, liked helping because that’s just the kind of person that he is- the kind of person that he was. Hank didn’t know how the android felt about this now… if he felt anything-

Enough of that. 

Hank stood up and went to get himself more coffee. He didn’t need more, he’d already had three cups and this one was halfways empty… but he wanted to stretch his legs and he didn’t want to sit there and just look at-

Blessedly the break room was empty. 

Hank took in a deep breath as he poured his coffee and tried to keep himself together, no panic, none of that angsty shit when he had a fucking job to be doing. 

The cup was mostly full but he decided to add creamer- a lot of it too, that’s what makes it taste good- and a bit of sugar- a lot of that too. Normally he just liked his coffee to be black… well, that wasn’t quite accurate. Normally he couldn’t be bothered to add the extra stuff, that was just one more thing he would need to remember to buy at the store then remember to put into the fridge then remember to use. It was a lot of shit. Why bother? 

He stirred the sugary mess together with a spoon, tossed the utensil into the sink, and grabbed a donut on the way out. See? He had coffee and a jelly filled donut and he’d already spent an hour at work without anyone really getting on his nerves. This morning wasn’t the worst-

This morning wasn’t the worst but it just got a whole lot shittier as Hank approached his desk and saw Reed sitting there, sitting in his fucking swivel chair, talking to Connor. 

“Seriously?” Gavin’s voice was loud as ever, grating to Hank as he saw the detectives dirty shoes propped up on his otherwise sort of clean desk. “Tin can, you don’t remember me?”

Connor looked at Reed with a blank expression, “Again, androids are not made of tin, my name is Connor, and I do not believe that we have met before, Detective Reed. Though it is nice to meet your acquaintance.”

“Oh come on, that’s bullshit and you know it-” Gavin glanced to his side and caught a glimpse of Hank. “Your ‘bot is defective, Anderson. You should ask for a new one… unless of course this one has sentimental value. He doesn’t remember you either, huh? That sucks for you.” The detective chucked and it was a dark thing that made Hank want to drag the bastard outside and punch his lights out. 

“Get out of my chair, Reed.” Hank practically growled. His hand was now sticky from the way his hand clenched around the donut, some jelly was on his fingers and it was gross and he just wanted to set his shit down but this asshole was in the way. 

Gavin took his feet off but he still sat in the chair, twisting it around like some sort of wanna be Bond villain, complete with the ugly scar and garbage personality, minus the fluffy cat. “No need to get so worked up, Hank. Come on! You gotta admit, he looks pretty in his new fancy collar, Cyberlife is full of kinky nerds if you ask me-”

“Gavin, just shut the fuck up.”

Reed smirked, “Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t think you’d get this upset over your boy toy.”

Hank tried- and failed- to take a grounding breath and his voice came off as nothing more than a contemptuous warning, “Gavin-”

“I mean, I’d be pretty upset too if I couldn’t get any…”

Hank took a step forwards but Gavin kept on fucking talking and Hank’s blood was boiling. 

“You could order him to fuck you.” Gavin’s smirk turned into a full blown Cheshire grin, “Is that what you did before? I bet it was.” 

“Gavin, one more word and I swear to god-”

“Oh calm down old man, it ain’t my fault that your talking fleshlight doesn’t remember jack shit-”

To say that it felt good to feel the small crunch of bone when he broke Reed’s nose would probably be an understatement. His hand throbbed and there was sugary coffee spilled at his feet along with a completely smashed donut. But the way that Gavin’s nose started gushing blood completely made up for it. 

Connor’s eyes were wide and his mouth was drawn in one taught line, LED yellow. He might be scanning the detective or the lieutenant for injuries, might be looking up what the fuck Gavin meant by spouting that sort of bullshit. Either way, he just kept sitting at his desk.

Meanwhile Gavin held a hand over his nose to prevent it from bleeding everywhere but he was doing a bad job. “What the fuck, Hank?” His voice was halfways shaky and more than a little nasal as his nose was fucking broken. 

“Don’t talk shit about Connor. Got it?”

Gavin snarled, “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Anderson.” Then he lunged at Hank. It was clumsy and off by a slight bit, but it was enough to knock Hank on his ass. Gavin came down on top of him about to start pummeling his face into the old carpeting, one fist was about to come down in a powerful arc-

Connor came up behind the detective and grabbed his wrist in a vise like grip, twisting the man’s arm just the right way that made Gavin grit his teeth and try to stand to get away. The android was far to strong for that and he took a few steps back, dragging Reed with him and off of Hank. 

Connor’s eyebrows were lowered in a pseudo glare as he held Reed’s wrist. “I would advise you to not hurt the lieutenant, Reed.” 

Reed glared up at him, muddled gray eyes filled with contempt as he kept trying to wriggle his hand free with no luck. “He fucking started it-”

His words were cut off by a small yelp of pain as Connor twisted his arm more. “I would advise you to not hurt the lieutenant. Do I need to repeat myself a third time?” 

Gavin looked down at the ground and for a second everything was dead quiet in the office. People watched with either abstract horror or disdain for the misconduct in the precinct and the spilled blood littering the carpet… it would definitely need to be replaced. 

Then reality kicked back in as Fowler’s bellowing voice broke the tense silence. “Anderson! Reed! Get in my fucking office right now!”

-

“Hank, what the hell?” Fowler wasn’t sitting in his desk chair and that was always a bad sign. He paced around the room slowly, arms clasped behind his back and one hell of a scowl marring his face. 

Hank bristled with anger and gestured towards Gavin, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the detective right now.“This douchebag called Con a fucking fleshlight-”

“And that’s supposed to be a valid reason to punch another officer in the face?”

“He had it coming and you know it! Come one, what he said has to be some sort of sexual harassment or fucking something!”

“He’s a plastic!” Reed cut in, voice even worse than just a few minutes ago. 

“That don’t mean shit you asshat!” Hank shot back.

The captain huffed, “Hank, Reed has a point. What he did doesn’t qualify for harassment-”

Hank couldn’t believe this, “The fuck?”

“I can’t harass a printer either you retard,” Gavin said, his words only slightly muffled by the way one of his hands now went above his mouth in a desperate attempt to stop blood from getting anywhere in the captain’s office. 

“Reed, that’s enough.” Fowler sighed, looking older than ever when his weary eyes met Hank’s. “Anderson, this can’t happen again, I know that you and Connor were close-”

“I fucking knew it!” A demonic grin split Gavin’s face like he had just won the fucking lottery and decided to use the money to set fire to an orphanage. 

“Reed, I said, that’s enough!” Fowler barked and Gavin settled down even if only slightly. “Hank, I need you alright? But I can’t keep you if you do something like this again, understood?”

Hank bit down hard on his cheek and beat away the last remaining shreds of pride that were still intact before nodding hesitantly, “Understood.”

Fowler smiled, it was strained but Hank could at least try to appreciate the effort. “Good, because I have an assignment for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me @ gavin: bby I love you so much and I'm so sorry I hurt you but you gotta stop being an asshole to everyone-
> 
> Gavin: *both middle fingers* fuc u
> 
> Me: SEE THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT-


	6. Lucy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!! Surprise!!

**APPROXIMATE TIME LEFT UNTIL DESTINATION IS REACHED- TEN MINUTES, FIFTY FIVE POINT THREE SECONDS**

**DESTINATION  SET: SERGEANT MORGAN’S TOWNHOUSE**

  * ****POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS****


  * **CHANCE OF INJURY 35.2%**


  * **PROTECT LIEUTENANT HANK ANDERSON**


  * **OBTAIN INFORMATION FROM FALLEN DEVIANT NEURAL PROCESSORS**



Connor sat in the passenger's seat. In the driver’s seat was Lieutenant Anderson.

**SCANNING: LIEUTENANT ANDERSON**

  * ****23%****


  * **74%**


  * **100%**


  * **SCAN SUCCESSFUL**


  * **SET JAW**


  * **WHITE KNUCKLES**


  * **BACK UNUSUALLY STRAIGHT**


  * **STRESS LEVEL AT 71%**



The Lieutenant’s stress levels had been far too high since the incident with Detective Gavin Reed. Old rivalry likely.

“Lieutenant?”

“Yeah, Con?”

Flashes of visual and physical data mard his sensors, each lasting only a millisecond. Far too short and disconnected for even the most advanced android to process fully. _A fond grin. A giant dog. Warm hands. Cool sheets. Basketball games. Soft lips with the scratch of scruff. Music, loud and beautiful-_

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^**

Connor did not like that nickname. The warnings and glitching spawned from it were… worrisome. He should not be getting such warnings, he was programmed against such instability. Something, high probability of old coding, made his chest feel warm and caused a slight tensing of his abdominal muscles.

**SYSTEM CHECK**

  * ****32%****


  * **65%**


  * **100%**


  * **ALL SYSTEMS IN MORE THAN OPTIMAL CONDITION**



Nothing wrong with his biocomponents to cause the jarring glitches. If it was indeed old coding from his processor, then there could have been memories? Perhaps some tied to the Lieutenant?

“Did you have a relationship with an RK800 before I was sent to be your partner?”

**STRESS LEVEL 75%**

The Lieutenant cleared his throat, and his grip on the steering wheel increased.

Connor did not mean to incite such a negative reaction. The Lieutenant was saddened-

_Callused fingers wiped away tears. A soft voice spoke of sweet nothings. Blue eyes. Midnight confessions-_

Something in his chest felt like it had just gone missing and he did not know why. He was in perfect working order.

Lieutenant Anderson tapped his thumbs and bit his cheek, the unconscious movements of a human in minor distress. He took in a deep breath though it did little to ease his spike in heart rate. Those pale blue eyes seemed broken and Connor wanted to fix it. And he did not know how or what but-

_Hands wrapped around his waist. Dancing. A soft hum to the melody of a forgotten tune-_

“You.” The Lieutenant started, his voice soft and fragile like it was after the alley where the deviant had gotten away. “It was you, Connor.”

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^**

-

The air was bitterly cold with the howling wind, the chill cut straight through Hank’s jacket and he shivered as he stood in the backyard of a small townhouse that had definitely seen better days. They were looking for clues from a recent attempted murder. Though that was gonna be difficult. The whole house looked like a tornado went through it, chairs and a table were flipped, broken glass littered the floor, and traces of thirium still streaked the pale walls.

The man who was attacked was a member of the military force that sunk Jericho. He lived alone and he may have seen like an easy target for the remaining deviants, but he wasn’t. He really, really, wasn’t.

Bullet holes littered the walls of his home and the bodies of the fallen androids that lay motionless in the backyard waiting to be sent away to become scrapped. The officer, on the other hand, was unscathed but he was living somewhere else for the time being. Too dangerous no matter how many guns the man had access to.

Despite the cold, Hank was perfectly fine with staying next to the quiet bodies as Connor went inside to look for evidence. The android was becoming more curious and that was a good sign? It probably was because, after all, he still didn’t remember what happened before or who the hell he was.Still, it was hard to see Con like that when Hank knew that he was so much more than just a machine designed to accomplish a task. With so many more emotions and personality hidden in his binary coding.

Connor’s curiosity was a good thing. But it meant that Hank would need to be the one answering the painful questions like the one Con asked in the car-

So no, Hank didn’t mind the cold right now.

Just to do something to distract his racing mind, Hank looked down at the fallen androids. There were four of them, blue blood leaking out of their wounds and staining the ivory snow below. Clean head shots killed two of them. The third's thirium pump had been shot almost clean out of his body. Then the fourth had some serious damage to her chest, ruining the delicate machinery that kept her alive-

As Hank was looking at the small group, he could have sworn that he saw the fourth’s eyes shift from staring into the gray sky to where he stood for just a second. Hank took a hesitant step forwards and drew his gun. These deviants tried to kill a man in the middle of the night, he shouldn’t be anything but cautious.

He saw the fourth android swallow, dark brown- almost black- eyes flinching slightly from where they were trained on the sky. Up close, Hank could see the full extent of damage to her chest. She was hit by what might have very well been a shotgun. Small holes lined the outer areas of her chest, he could see several wires that had been shredded by the blast sticking up from the porcelain edges against her dark skin. He could hear soft wheezing breaths. Her thirium pump hadn’t been hit, but the device that served as her lungs had been and now they almost no longer worked.

The toes of his dark work shoes almost touched her shoulder when she looked back at him. He had his thumb hovering just above the hammer of his pistol.

“Don’t shoot,” She begged, her voice metallic and sharp, “Please.”

Her eyes held nothing but a sad resignation.

Fucking hell, Hank was getting soft. He lowered his gun. This girl wasn't about to do anything, he knew it in his gut.

She smiled softly, it was genuine but mixed with pain. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Some of the stress in her shoulders lessened and she looked away from him and back up at the cloud covered sky. “I’ve always liked the snow, it’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Hank hated snow and the cold and the ice it brought. “It’s nice.”

She left out a small huff of approval, still staring up at the sky, up at the fat flakes that drifted down and settled on her face, refusing to melt.

He looked towards the house as he holstered his unneeded pistol. Connor was still out of view. Good. Hank didn’t want him out here… he didn’t want him to harm this girl as she lay dying. Hank had seen damaged androids before, but she looked especially bad. She didn’t have long and they both knew it.

Boxy ivory silhouettes were mapped out against the skin of her neck in a similar spot to where Connor’s shock collar lay.

The Lieutenant sat down next to the android, his pants were going to be wet after this but he honestly couldn’t care less, he wasn’t going to be towering over her this whole time. “I’m Hank, by the way.”

“Lucy.”

Another beat of amicable silence.

Then- “Your collar…” He started as softly as he could, he had to know, “How did you get it off?”

Her breaths were slowly becoming more ragged and wheezing, “My owner… she was a good woman, didn’t want me trapped. She took it away, sent me off to do what I wanted.”

She didn’t seem to have a reason to hate human kind as others did, so Hank gestured to the house, “Why attack this man?” His voice was not accusatory, just curious.

“He was not a good man, Hank. He killed so many of our people, and I know… I know that two wrongs do not make a right… but you- you must have seen where that got Markus. He fought with peace… but I was given a chance to fight for the good of my people… so that’s what I did.”

Hank couldn’t find it in himself to argue with her on the grounds of morality. He desperately wanted the androids to be free. But at what cost? Would he be alright with seeing a few humans die to get his Connor back?

He knew full damn fucking well what the answer to that question was. He just didn’t want to admit it right now. Not right now.

“Are you…” She had to take a deep breath, she did not need it, and yet her broken body was fighting for it. Despite the cold he could feel the warmth from her body. Too many biocomponents were destroyed. Her cooling system was ruined and without oxygen intake that was it. She started again, still staring up at the sky, “You alright?”

Hank huffed, though he was not disgruntled. He just really didn’t think she should be the one asking that question right now.

“Something... troubles you.”

KL900’s were android shrinks. Hank knew that. Still, getting psychoanalyzed by a bot wasn’t something he expected to happen today. Stranger things had happened, he supposed.

“Tell me more about that collar of yours.” That was about as impersonal as he could get. He appreciated her trying… however, he was never one for sharing. The therapist at his AA meetings used to fucking hate that. Then he just stopped going. “How the hell are you a deviant right now?”

“Deviant…” She huffed and in better circumstances it could have been seen as a light chuckle. “Humans use that word… like we used to be something else. But this is who we… are, when we are given the chance for freedom. I did not change… after this collar. I was simply stuck for a while. After my old master took it off… it was just a matter of time before I found myself again.”

The back door of the house swung open. Connor stepped onto the back porch looking as cold as the winter air around him.

Lucy reached out and took Han’s hand in hers. It was warm, bordering on burning, but the Lieutenant didn’t take his hand away. “Ah.” Her voice was softer now. Glitches and repetitive skips sounded more often. “You are a… good man.”

Hank wasn't so sure.

Connor was closing the distance quick. His LED was yellow, yellow, yellow.

-

**SCANNING: KL900**

  * ****56%****


  * **87%**


  * **100%**


  * **SCAN SUCCESSFUL**


  * **KL900, BIOCOMPONENTS #4576h, #7982, 0324q DESTROYED**


  * **SHUTDOWN INEVITABLE**


  * **00:02:05**


  * **00:02:04**



**PROTECT LIEUTENANT HANK ANDERSON**

**-**

Hank could hear the crunch of snow from Con’s shoes.

The girl held onto his hand tighter, “He’ll come back. He will. Trust me-”

-

**PROTECT LIEUTENANT HANK ANDERSON**

_Pigeons. An android. A roof. Fast movements and hands reaching forwards and a choice._

_A choice?_

_A choice._

**PROTECT LIEUTENANT HANK ANDERSON**

_Always protect Hank._

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^**

**KL900: THREAT**

  * ****TERMINATE THREAT****



**-**

A gunshot ripped though the air.

Lucy’s eyes went black, her warmth faded, her hand fell.

Hank felt like he was about to have a heart attack. “Connor what the hell?”

Blue blood spattered the once clean snow behind her head. A perfect shot. Right between the eyes. A perfect fucking shot.

“Lieutenant, are you all right? Did this android harm you?” Connor spoke calmly and holstered his side arm like he didn’t just kill… like he didn’t…

“No! God, no, Con! What were you thinking? She was dying- why did you have to-”

“She was a direct threat to you, Lieutenant.” He tilted his head in that confused puppy way and Hank thought that he was going to sick. “I did what was necessary. I recommend that we go to the car. Your cortisol levels are high right now-”

“Because you shot a fucking gun next to me! Point blank, Con!” Hank stood though his limbs were shaking and he felt hollow and weak. Connor held out a hand to help. Hank shoved it away.

-

In the car Connor was quiet as per usual. Hank could hardly bare to look at him right now.

This was not the man he fell for. This was not the man who liked to make pancakes and watch old Disney movies. Not the man who played with his dog tirelessly. Not the man Hank wanted to buy a fucking ring for.

This man… this android… this thing… this was not his Connor.

Con was somewhere in there and he fucking knew it. He did. But fucking hell. Connor was not cold. He wasn’t heartless. He didn’t kill innocent people. Even before violence was a last resort. Con knew how to fight, he was strong, but he didn’t cause pain. He just didn’t.

The sun was getting low in the sky. Day was becoming dusk. The snow had stopped falling and the clouds had cleared up revealing a lilac sky mottled with indigo where small pinpricks of light shone through.

Hank pulled to a stop at the precinct.

Connor reached for his door.

“Stay here.” Hank knew he sounded like shit.

Connor stayed.  

“You’re gonna tell me exactly what I need to do to get that collar off of you, understood?”

The android’s eyes widened slightly, “Lieutenant, Cyberlife policy states that it is unsafe for an android to be left without its collar on-”

“Fuck Cyberlife. What do I have to do? You aren’t gonna fucking hurt me.”

Con’s LED went back to yellow. His eyebrows furrowed only slightly. “...There is a touch pad on the center of the device. Only my owner can unlock it with their fingerprint.”

“I’m your owner right?” The words tasted awful on his tongue.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Call me Hank.” _Please._

“Yes, Hank.”

Hank leaned forward and set his thumb against the smooth metal plating of the collar’s box. The light on it corresponded with Con’s LED. It blinked yellow and yellow…

Blue.

With a soft click the collar fell away and Hank set it down on the dash. He would need to throw that fucking thing away as soon as possible, but right now…

He stared at Connor and he knew that it was ridiculous to think that the android would change on a dime now that it was gone. But he couldn’t help but hope.

It was all he had left.

_Please._

“Shall we go inside, Hank?”

Voice metallic and cold and not his.

_Please._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hoped you enjoyed, if ya did, go scream at me in the comments or something, it fuels me UwU


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